


Threshold

by talesofsymphoniac



Category: The Death Gate Cycle - Margaret Weis & Tracy Hickman
Genre: Developing Relationship, Established Relationship, F/M, Friendship, Gen, Jealousy, M/M, Multi, Music, POV Marit, Post-Canon, Post-Series, Storytelling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-06
Updated: 2017-11-06
Packaged: 2019-01-29 21:29:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12639537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/talesofsymphoniac/pseuds/talesofsymphoniac
Summary: Alfred and Marit become friends, they both keep a secret from Haplo, and the three of them have the emotional maturity of high schoolers. It's possible they're all still a bit shaky on this whole "feelings" thing.





	Threshold

**Author's Note:**

> This is a weird fic in a lot of ways for me, sort of the fic equivalent of throwing stuff against the wall and seeing if anything sticks, but, y'know, I wrote it, so I figured I may as well post it?

“You’re _quite_ certain about this?”

Marit crossed her arms as Alfred shifted nervously under her hard eyes. Impatience and annoyance tugged at her; Alfred had taken her away from where she and Haplo had been busy inscribing protective runes into what would become the foundation of their dwelling. Worse, he had apparently done so purely to ask her inane questions. She had already agreed, after all, that Alfred would be living with them in the newly-reclaimed Nexus.

“Do I seem uncertain?”

“Well, no,” Alfred admitted, tapping his fingers together. “It’s just, I know it’s a lot to ask, and I want to make sure--”

“It’s fine, Alfred,” she said shortly.

Alfred finally dared look at her. He hesitated then, his eyes glazing over like he was thinking deeply. Just as she was about to leave him to it and turn back to her work, he took a breath.

“My name is Coren.”

It took Marit a few seconds to make sense of this sudden pronouncement, making for a strained silence during which Alfred’s air of confidence seemed to deflate as quickly as it had manifested. “I thought you should know,” he continued, his face beginning to color. “If we’re going to be living together, I mean.”

“Ah.” She stared at him, unsure how exactly she was supposed to respond to that. In the end, she nodded awkwardly, and he grinned weakly at her, then followed her back to where Haplo was just standing up, looking satisfied.

Marit examined the rune structures critically, searching for any flaw that might weaken the spells. Beside her, Alfred kneeled, running a hand across the solid slab. Marit heard his singing, seeing the new lines forming under his fingertips a second too late to stop him. Alarmed, she moved to interrupt before he could ruin the carefully-placed structures, but Haplo took her arm and when she turned to him, he shook his head, a hint of a smile playing on his lips.

Alfred stood a few seconds later, revealing a new set of runes laid overtop the ones she and Haplo had placed there. Marit pursed her lips, unable to completely mask her surprise; rather than interfering with their structures or superseding them, as she had expected, the unfamiliar runes had fit themselves in the negative spaces, interlocking with theirs. And though Marit didn’t recognize the patterns Alfred had added, she could feel the power emanating from them, strengthening hers and Haplo’s.

Haplo had already told her about what had transpired as he and Alfred closed Death’s Gate, but there was a difference between hearing about it and seeing the two supposedly opposing magics functioning together with her own eyes. She nodded, impressed in spite of herself, and Alfred, who had been glancing at her nervously out of the corner of his eye, looked relieved.

Haplo’s arm slipped around her waist, and he pulled her to his side, pressing a kiss to her cheek and looking much too pleased with himself. She huffed an annoyance that she didn’t feel and shoved her weight to the side so Haplo nearly lost his balance, but she felt her lips turn up slightly, and when he pulled her close again, she didn’t protest it.

* * *

The pleasant weight of a body over her, a mouth warm against her neck, moving up to kiss her deeply. Too soon, her partner pulled away from her, the sudden absence drawing a sigh from Marit’s lips.

She opened her eyes, ready to pull Haplo back down to continue their kiss, but stopped when she saw his face. His hair was disheveled from Marit’s fingers, his cheeks faintly colored by the blue runes lighting their room, but his expression was different than before, lacking the same passion from a few moments earlier. It was one he’d worn often these past few weeks; the hint of a thoughtful smile and dark eyes, calm like the surface of a lake and containing the same endless depths.

“What is it?” Marit asked, wanting to be annoyed by the interruption. Instead, her heart beat inexplicably faster in her chest, and she found herself unable to look away from him.

“I missed you,” Haplo said, completely sincere, and Marit’s lips parted in the slightest surprise. “I forgot how much.”

It wasn’t unpleasant, exactly, she thought, feeling Haplo’s hand brush her cheek. Still, she frowned. “I don’t even know how to respond to that.”

To her surprise, his expression didn’t change but for the smallest twitch of his lips. “You don’t have to,” he said simply, before leaning down to brush their lips together again.

This kiss was different from the heated ones that had guided them to seclusion here. Slow, lingering, all as gentle and careful as the hands that smoothed back and forth over her skin.

There had never been time for these kinds of slow caresses in the Labyrinth, where one could never afford to be distracted for long. Even if there had been, the idea of such unguarded affection had been anathema to the Haplo and Marit who had met in the Labyrinth so long ago.

“You’re so…” Marit was about to tease Haplo about how soft he’d become, as she’d already done quite a few times in recent days, but her voice came out subdued instead, too thoughtful for playfulness, and she trailed off, not knowing how to continue.

It was difficult, still. Of course Marit had missed Haplo, too, no matter how deeply she had once buried it. It shouldn’t have been so difficult to say as much, but she wasn’t in the habit of stating what they both already knew, and any words she did manage to think of stuck in her throat.

Haplo didn’t blame her. He never had, always meeting her exactly where she was, even before she dared try to reach back. He hummed against her jawline, a sound that was perhaps close to laughter. “I love you, too.”

Even now, there were moments when she couldn’t be sure this was reality. She had given this up, or so she had believed, and sometimes it was too easy to imagine losing it all over again. As playfully spoken as they were, now, Haplo’s words still took her back to Abri, to the approaching threat, to the burning guilt of not being able to say those simple words back. To Haplo, taken away from her, and the fear of never getting another chance.

As long as this was her reality, she refused to let her chances slip away again. “Haplo,” she said clearly, and her hands held tightly where they rested against his shoulders. “I love you.”

He smiled at her, then, and Marit, despite her lack of familiarity with the concept, could only have described the sight as beautiful.

* * *

 “It’s still strange,” Haplo mused one evening as they made their way back to their home through the developing city becoming known as New Abri.

“It is,” Marit agreed. “All these people in one place.” Though she could hardly call the streets crowded, she wasn’t accustomed to any of it; the noise, the constant flurry of activity. It should have set her at ease, knowing there was strength in such numbers, but occasionally it had the opposite effect as her senses were unable to keep track of all that was happening around her.

Haplo, as ever, seemed to know what she was thinking. “It’s much more lively than I’ve ever seen it.”

Marit agreed, not that meant much, coming from her. She’d only been in the Nexus a few weeks before Xar had sent her after Haplo, after all; much of the place was as new to her as it was to Alfred and the rest of the new arrivals.

Beside them, Alfred had slowed his pace just slightly, his head tilting as his expression turned to one of curiosity. “Is that music?”

Skeptic, Marit paused to listen and was surprised to find she heard it, too; voices and rhythm and melody. Haplo turned his head to listen as well, casting each of them a look. In wordless agreement, the three of them made their way towards the source of the sound.

The sounds grew louder until they turned the corner and Marit spotted the source of it: within a small group of of Patryns standing and sitting around one of the fire pits, two were playing small drums in opposing rhythms. And most of the rest, strange as it was, were singing. Yet more jarring, as Marit listened closer, she found that she recognized the words, or at least the story the words told. The song itself was completely foreign, and so she was surprised when Alfred began humming along beside her.

“You recognize it?” she asked.

He shook his head, beginning to light up with excitement. “No, but it’s fairly simple,” he assured her, “so anyone could join in.”

“Not anyone,” Haplo pointed out.

“Oh?” Alfred asked, smiling at him with false innocence. “But I happen to know that you have a lovely voice.”

Haplo actually looked embarrassed at his teasing, which might have amused Marit if she wasn’t still feeling so disconcerted. She couldn’t even quite explain what she found so strange about it, when Abri itself was already so strange. “This isn’t normal. For us.”

“I figured that,” Alfred said, nodding earnestly. He got like this in Abri, sometimes, endlessly intrigued by the peculiarities that mostly only left Marit discomforted. “It’s certainly a completely different style from anything I’ve heard. And the words are…” he trailed off, gesturing vaguely with his hands.

She had forgotten that he wouldn’t have recognized it. “It’s a pretty common story,” Haplo explained for her. “Never heard it sung, though.”

“Are there many stories like that, then?” Alfred asked, looking extremely intrigued.

“Sure,” Haplo said. At Alfred’s expectant look, he added: “Marit knows more of them than I do.”

“I never would have thought of Patryns as storytellers,” Alfred said thoughtfully.

“We’re not,” Marit said with a shrug. “It’s something to do, that’s all. Most of them are probably just real events that got exaggerated the more people told them.”

Alfred listened to her carefully, clearly fascinated. “I’d love to hear more,” he told her, eagerness displacing the shyness he so often used with her.

“You won’t exactly be short on opportunity,” Haplo said dryly when Marit didn’t respond right away. “We’re not going anywhere.”

They stayed a little longer, watching and listening, but Marit quickly grew impatient, and it soon became clear that Alfred intended to stay for quite some time. Just as she had made up her mind to leave them behind and walk the rest of the way herself, though, Alfred bid her and Haplo to continue on without him. Marit was glad for it; though she didn’t mind Alfred’s presence as much as she might have once expected, she nevertheless appreciated the times he would go out of his way to allow her and Haplo time to speak and be on their own. She enjoyed the rest of the walk, taking full advantage of their solitude, and they heard Alfred arrive himself a few hours later. All in all, it was an evening well-spent.

The night, however, was a difficult one for all three of them, one of those nights where rest was uneasy, where her body refused to relax, instinctively on alert for an attack that she told herself repeatedly would not come. It was after some tossing and turning that Marit stepped out of bed with only a vague idea of what she was doing.

It was in the main room that she found Alfred, already up with a warm drink he’d somehow prepared without her hearing.

“Nightmares?” He spoke quietly, his tone light, but even the single word held the barest senses of those haunting rows of tombs, another of cold shackles around wrists. She recognized them, though she’d only seen them once before, in the red dragon’s lair.

She shook her head, taking a seat near him. “Just not sleeping.” It wasn’t quite a lie.

She was unsurprised to hear Haplo’s footsteps behind her-- she knew, despite that he’d never said it, that he preferred not to sleep alone, these days-- and a few minutes later, Alfred was pushing a steaming cup into her hands, offering another one to Haplo next to her.

They sat together in silence for a while. Marit sipped at her drink, trying to decide if she liked the taste or not. It was different, she decided, though not altogether unpleasant. And then she lowered her hands, catching Alfred’s eye. “Still want to hear some of those stories?”

Haplo shifted beside her, and Alfred, though initially surprised, answered her with a slight nod. Marit swirled the liquid remaining in her cup, thinking of where to begin. _I know,_ she thought, feeling the corner of her lip tug upward. “This one was always Haplo’s favorite,” she started, casting him a sly glance. His eyes fairly glittered as he inclined his head, bidding her to continue.

Her story began with a child, a powerful young Patryn who had left his tribe behind in his first steps as a Runner. The Patryn language gave her words shape and structure, painting with light strokes the impression of the boy as he made his way through the rough landscape, skillfully avoiding the traps and beasts the Labyrinth had set in his path. He passed through his first gate without incident.

It wasn’t long after passing through this gate that the child sensed that he was being followed. He did all he could to avoid the shadow pursuing him; for days and nights he ran, but no matter how quickly he covered ground or how cleverly he chose his path, the creature persisted.

At last, the child could run no longer, and, exhausted, he turned in the hopes of confronting his enemy face-to-face. He did what he could to prepare himself for the fight.

The beast, sensing his fatigue, chose that moment to reveal itself: a large, black creature with four powerful legs, horrible, snarling teeth, and nasty claws that charged out of the forest and towards the child. In the blink of an eye it had closed in, leapt into the air, ready to tear the boy’s throat apart, but he stood, unflinching, drawing on his own power. As the growling beast reached him, he unleashed a powerful attack, a magic that sent his assailant flying back the way it had come in a flash of blinding light.

The boy fell to his knees, drained by the force of the spell he had created and the long days of travel, but he knew he could rest easily now that this creature was dead. His eyes began to close when he heard a low growl, saw movement in the distance. The child was certain he would die, too tired to run any farther. He felt hot breath at his face, the roughness of a tongue licking at his cheek, and then there was nothing but darkness.

Marit paused at this point, registering the faces of her listeners. Haplo regarded her with an idle smile, leaning his head into his hand. Alfred, meanwhile, was staring at her with an expression bordering on horrified: his eyes wide and his face pallid.

“The child awoke--” Alfred seemed to remember how to breathe, and Haplo’s lips twitched almost imperceptibly-- “from a restful sleep, the pillow beneath him warm and comfortable… and breathing beneath him. The child looked down and recognized the black fur of the creature that had attacked him the previous day. The creature itself was unrecognizable; barely as tall as the boy’s chest, claws and fangs smaller than before and a soft tail that had wrapped around the child as he slept. And when the boy began to stir, he found that the creature stayed by his side, protected him, hunted for itself and for him, as well.”

“Instead of destroying it, the boy had managed to transform it into something else, entirely. The Patryn had turned the Labyrinth’s creation into something of his own, something that would be subservient to _him,_ instead. So the two traveled on together, and the boy called the creature…” Marit flicked her gaze to Alfred, whose face had regained its color; his eyes now bright, even. “Dog,” she finished, confirming what each of them already knew.

She went on to describe the various other spectacular feats performed by the child, the gates he traveled through as he grew into a powerful warrior. It took a dragon to bring him down, in the end: a deadly blow in its final breath, the blood of the warrior and the dog living on, in their way, through the multitude of children spread across the Labyrinth during their travels. The usual fare.

It had been a long time ago, the first time Marit had heard this story. It hadn’t been uncommon for her tribe to shelter Runners for the night, and it was from them that she’d first heard these tales as a small child. She recalled how they would sit together, and the stranger would share what he’d heard from another tribe, or exchange other useful information on the movements of the creatures outside or other Runners he’d seen nearby. And sometimes, when the night grew long, the stranger would offer a story he’d heard from one of those other tribes he’d stayed with, and the adults would tell one of their own in turn.

Not quite so long ago was the last time Marit herself had told one of these stories. Always nights like tonight: murmuring one after another in the dark as they huddled together, neither she nor Haplo daring to close their eyes. And now here she was, rescued from the Labyrinth, telling the same stories to a Sartan as Haplo dozed off with his head resting on her legs. It was a strange thought.

Alfred’s chuckle interrupted her thoughts, and she looked at him inquisitively. He shook his head, smiling fondly at her and Haplo. “I was just reminded of the dog.”

Marit hummed, threading her fingers through his hair and scratching behind his ear the way the dog had liked. Haplo grinned at that from his position on her lap, his eyes still closed. “The dog was a cuddler, wasn’t he?” she said, teasing.

“I was thinking of getting another one, now that you mention it,” Haplo said, one eye cracking open. “The old one grew on me.”

“The old one _was_ you,” Marit pointed out, amused. Haplo shrugged, unrepentant, his lips still curved upwards, and he shifted closer to her. Alfred watched the pair of them, blue eyes sparkling with his own enjoyment.

Quiet settled over them again, but the tension was gone, now, a fact that Marit wondered at, her hands still stroking through Haplo’s hair while Alfred watched, thoughtful.

“If the Patryn’s dog was the only one, how did it manage to have children?”

Marit frowned at the question. “Who knows? It’s just a story. It’s not supposed to be realistic.” If it were realistic, she didn’t say, the child would have died exactly when the Sartan had expected him to.

Alfred waved a hand, turning the faintest pink. “Right, of course not. I was just thinking.”

 _Thinking about what?_ Marit wondered. There wasn’t much to it; the hero was powerful enough to destroy all the obstacles in their path, and then they grew old after having children of their own. Wish-fulfillment. Just something, however unattainable it was, to keep you running.

She looked down at Haplo, warm and peaceful in the home they had built together in the safety of the Nexus. _Maybe not so unattainable, now._ The idea was frightening in its own way: completely out of the bounds of what she’d believed to be possible. What was she supposed to do with that, then?

“Still,” Alfred was saying, “it was nice.” She felt more than saw him take her drink from where it sat in front of her, and it struck her how easily he had slipped into this life with them, too. “Thank you,” he said to her, and no, maybe it wasn’t so unattainable, now.

* * *

Though the Nexus was a safe haven for the Patryns-- and the Sartan, now, she supposed-- who lived there, they could not allow the Labyrinth to be left unchecked. Before, she knew, the Final Gate had been watched constantly, but none of the Patryns except Xar had ever left the Nexus, and him only rarely. That was one thing that had changed, now; Vasu had initially suggested sending scouting parties out to keep the Final Gate secure and watch for anyone approaching. Haplo had agreed immediately, volunteering himself to assist. Marit, Alfred, and most of the Patryns of Abri had followed closely behind. Thus far, Alfred was the only full-blooded Sartan among them, but that was sure to change as Balthazar’s people regained their strength, and as the tentative alliance between the two races grew stronger.

She, Haplo, and Alfred had been sent out as the first such mission, a decision Marit questioned more and more the closer dusk approached. The dragon that was always around Zifnab had claimed that the newfound cooperation between their peoples would somehow leave the Labyrinth weakened, and she could sense that it was correct. Still: the Labyrinth held something of a personal grudge against them, and Marit could feel it fighting its hardest to make them regret daring to return.

“Let me.” Alfred approached Haplo, who was bracing himself against a tree. Their last fight had been a particularly difficult one, leaving him with a slashing wound across his chest. Marit scanned the surrounding forest for more threats while Alfred took Haplo’s hands in his own. When he had finished the healing process, he reached out a hand to touch Haplo’s blood-soaked shirt, dangerously near the heart-rune that was already scarred. “That was much too close.”

“We’ve had closer,” Haplo reminded him.

“That doesn’t actually make me feel better, you know,” Alfred sighed, stern but with a certain gentleness, too.

The three of them continued on, holding their own until Marit and Haplo determined they could take a short break. They ate the food they had taken with them, sitting with their backs to one of the large trees that hung over them. It was almost peaceful.

“You should rest, while you have the chance. I’ll watch over you,” Alfred offered to both of them when they had finished.

Marit frowned. She wouldn’t have minded shutting her eyes for a few moments, and she had done so before, in the Labyrinth, but she hardly needed it, now.

Haplo studied Alfred closely. “Are you sure?”

“Of course,” the Sartan replied confidently. “Leave it to me.”

Haplo considered him, then Marit in unspoken question.

She closed her eyes. “Just a few minutes, then,” she answered, and so she and Haplo lay, almost warm despite the lack of sunlight, feeling slightly more secure with someone watching over them.

* * *

Marit wasn’t awoken by anything in particular. She drifted back into consciousness, slowly becoming aware of the cool ground beneath her and the warmth of Haplo’s body pressed against her side until her eyes opened on their own. She cursed herself, for she hadn’t intended to drift off completely. Alfred sat beside them, still as a statue, just as he had been when Marit had fallen asleep, and she cursed him, too, for not waking them. She found she couldn’t summon too much anger, though: they could only have been here for an hour or so, and it had been a good sleep. Still, she scolded herself, snapping herself back into alertness.

Alfred turned to her as she pulled herself upright. “Good morning, my dear.” His voice was soft, so as not to disturb their sleeping companion, but it was warm all the same.

Marit rolled her shoulders, eyeing their surroundings sharply as if to make up for the time she’d spent asleep. “It’s not morning.”

“No,” Alfred admitted, and his tranquil expression helped her take a breath, glancing back down to Haplo’s sleeping form. It reminded her of the quiet of their home in the Nexus-- and wasn’t that strange, to have a home to think of which such fondness?

“You could sleep more, if you want,” Alfred added, his hands clasped together in his lap.

“I’m up.” Marit was already thinking of the rest of their journey, for they had already delayed for too long. They would finish the circular path they had begun before making their way back to the Nexus. She looked down at Haplo, again, still asleep beside her.

Alfred followed the direction of her thoughts. “Well, let’s not wake him just yet.”

 _It’s dangerous to stay here longer than we have to,_ she almost said, but she remained quiet, listening to Haplo’s calm breathing. She didn’t want to force them out of the peace they had found quite yet, either.

Alfred understood her without words, watched her with a gentle contentment. He turned down to Haplo, then, reaching out to carefully brush a stray lock of hair from his face with slender fingers. Marit hummed, feeling strangely wrapped up in the intimacy of it all. “You know,” she said idly, feeling the beginnings of a rare smile, “sometimes it’s hard to tell whose husband he really is.”

It was clearly meant to be teasing. She expected Alfred to smile along with her, shaking his head good-naturedly. Instead, Alfred’s head snapped up to look at her, his eyes wide. “What?”

Marit blinked. The comfortable atmosphere had vanished entirely as Alfred paled, frozen in place like a guilty child that she had caught in some wrongdoing.

It clicked into place easily, after that.

 _“Oh,”_ Marit said numbly. She couldn’t say she was particularly surprised. Only after she spoke did Alfred seem to realize how completely he’d given himself away.

 _“No.”_ He shook his head vehemently, raising his hands as if to physically defend himself. “No, no, it’s not-- no.” His panic grew quickly, his hands fluttering as his mouth opened and shut wordlessly, anxiety radiating off him in waves that were almost tangible.

Perhaps Haplo felt it, too-- it certainly seemed possible, knowing the two of them-- for he chose that moment to stir, a gruff sound escaping his throat as he pushed himself up. His eyes darted around, the commotion setting him instinctively on edge. Seeing Marit and Alfred in no immediate danger made him relax, but just slightly.

“What’s wrong?” He looked between the two of them, ill at ease upon seeing Alfred’s distress and Marit’s uncertainty. “What happened?”

Alfred rearranged his face into a very poor attempt at a reassuring smile. “Nothing,” he said, far too forcefully. He glanced at Marit, his eyes communicating a silent plea. “Just… nothing.”

Marit weighed her options for a few seconds. Then, coming to a decision, she rose to her knees. Whatever was between those two was theirs to work out. “We should get moving,” she called over her shoulder.

“Alfred?” She heard Haplo behind her, could picture his face, confused and concerned.

“Marit’s right,” Alfred replied quickly, only a little steadier than before. “Let’s go.”

It only took Alfred a few clumsier-than-usual steps and a short melody to turn into the dragon, and he was up in the air before anyone could say anything more.

Haplo joined Marit, head turned up to face the emerald dragon as it took flight. “What the _hell,”_ he said, alarmed, now. His eyes caught Marit’s, searching for an answer there.

She thought of Alfred’s blue eyes, flashing so quickly from deep affection to shame and even fear. “It’s Alfred,” she said, eventually. “How should I know?”

Haplo’s eyes drilled into her, and Marit knew that he knew she was withholding something, that he was trying to understand why she would do such a thing. Marit kept her gaze steady, watching as he grappled with some internal uncertainty. “Okay,” he finally decided, only the least bit hesitant, and it struck Marit how deeply he trusted her.

She nodded, and the two of them walked forward together, the green dragon circling above them.

* * *

The dragon landed just outside the Final Gate, having carried her and Haplo for the last stretch of their journey. Marit felt her feet touch the ground as Alfred transformed back into himself: a middle-aged man who looked almost as nervous as he’d been the first time Marit had met him. He made his way through the gate swiftly, stumbling a bit over his large feet, and Marit and Haplo had to walk quickly to keep up with him.

“Alfred--”

Alfred stopped in his tracks. “I’m going to the library.”

Haplo blinked at the Sartan’s strange, forced tone, bewildered yet again. Even Marit was a little surprised; it wasn’t like Alfred to interrupt like that, and he never left if there was a chance one of them might need something from him.

“We just got back, Coren,” Haplo tried, his eyebrows furrowed. “You should get some rest.”

Alfred wilted under the scrutiny, or perhaps just Haplo’s use of his name. Marit recognized those pleading eyes from earlier, this time directed at Haplo. “Please, I just have to…” He trailed off, unable to think of a plausible excuse.

Haplo frowned. “Fine, then,” he said, and from the way Alfred flinched, Marit knew he’d caught the slight hurt in his tone, too. Still, he only nodded, moving away from them with all the grace of a wounded animal.

 _Please, let this be the end of it,_ Marit thought, but knowing Alfred and seeing Haplo’s dissatisfaction painted all over his face, she could already guess what the chances of that were.

* * *

Sure enough, Haplo’s mood did nothing to improve the following day.

“What happened?” Marit asked when he marched into their home, glaring at the floor.

“That’s what I’d like to know,” Haplo grumbled, crossing his arms as he leaned against the wall. “He’s locked himself up in the library for who-knows-what-reason, keeps insisting he’s ‘fine’ like he thinks I’m an _idiot,_ like I can’t tell--”  Haplo cut himself off there with a huff, and Marit sighed, feeling a headache coming on.

“So he needs some room to breathe,” she said, dismissive. They really had been practically living on top of each other in recent days. “No reason to get so upset over it.”

“I’m not--” Haplo began to retort, but he silenced himself before he could finish the obvious lie. “I just don’t understand,” he said instead, still scowling.

Marit watched him with a blank expression, deliberating. Finally, she sighed, making her way towards the door. “I’ll be back.”

Haplo gave her the same searching stare from yesterday. “You’re going to the library.” It wasn’t a question; that wasn’t the part that was confusing him.

Again, Marit wanted to groan. Alfred really owed her for all this, she thought as she raised a quick hand in goodbye and stepped out the door.

* * *

It didn’t take long to track Alfred down in the library; it had only taken him a few days to effectively claim one of the rooms there as his own, and in only a few days more it was towering with stacks of books and loose papers covered in handwritten notes.

“Alfred?” Marit walked right into the study through its open door, noting with amusement and even a touch of something else-- it took her a second to register it as fondness-- how accessible Alfred had made himself even when he was trying to hide himself away.

Alfred looked up from a particularly thick tome. “Marit!” His face split into a smile as cheerful as it was strained. “How are you?”

“I’ve been better,” Marit said bluntly, moving a stack of books from one of the extra chairs so she could take a seat. Alfred’s face immediately fell, and he swallowed, looking down at his hands clasped together in front of him. She crossed her arms. “How long are you planning on shutting yourself up like this, exactly?”

Alfred flinched at the accusation. “I’m not…” He gave it up halfway through as a terrible lie, and Marit was reminded of Haplo doing the same thing, earlier. He let out a breath, looking pained. “I don’t know what else to do,” he said, exhausted. “I thought maybe it would help if I stayed out of sight for a while.”

“And how’s that working out for you? For _either_ of you?” Marit shot back, unsympathetic. “He’s miserable, you know.”

“He’s furious with me,” Alfred corrected with a weak smile. It only annoyed Marit more, and she huffed, watching him nervously fiddle with the pen in his hand. “Thank you,” Alfred finally said, so softly it was difficult to hear. “For not saying anything.”

“That’s not my business,” Marit said shortly.

“Marit… Thank you. I really…” Alfred fixed her with a look of such thankfulness that she was immediately uncomfortable, and it struck her that if there was anything worse than Alfred’s unnecessary apologizing, it was the unnecessary displays of gratitude.

“What _is_ my business,” she interrupted, her tone harsh, “is the fact that Haplo’s all out of sorts, and he knows that I won’t tell him anything that’s going on with you, which means you have to.”

Every muscle in Alfred’s face seemed to freeze for a second. “ _What?_ ”

It was almost comical, but Marit wasn’t laughing. “Unless you know of another way to set things right,” she said, ignoring how Alfred began to fret again, shaking his head emphatically.

“I do, actually!” Alfred exclaimed desperately, striking a hand flat against the page in front of him. “We’re all going to forget about this, and I’m going to stay here and read and write and help you both in every way that I can and we _never_ have to talk about this again! _That_ was the plan!” He buried his head in his hands. “Why do I always--?”

The rest of his frustrated mumblings were too muffled for Marit to make out, but she was focused on a different part of Alfred’s rantings, anyway. “You were never going to say anything?”

Alfred looked up at her, surprised. “Of course not,” he said, like it was the most obvious thing. “Of _course_ not. Nothing good could possibly come of it.”

“You don’t know that,” Marit countered, quite sensibly, she thought, but Alfred ignored her, already back to his worrying. The whole thing was frustrating enough to make Marit slump back in her chair, exasperated. “This is ridiculous,” she complained. “It’s not like he’s not going to figure it out, anyway. I mean, _I_ figured it out.” She fixed Alfred with a stern look as he slowly sunk down into his chair, waiting for a response that never came. “You’re acting like a child,” she declared.

For a moment, he just stared at her, and all the fight in him seemed to have melted away into something that she could only describe as exhaustion. “I know,” he finally said, clasping his hands together tightly with the admission. “Everything you said, believe me, I know. I just… it’s been so nice, with you both. I’ve been happy. I can’t remember the last time…” he swallowed, rubbing at his eyes before he continued. “You’re my _friends_ ,” he said softly, as if he was still amazed by this fact.

“Yes, we are,” she said forcefully, surprising herself as much as she evidently surprised Alfred, who met her eyes with a weary smile. It was the closest to actual happiness he’d displayed this whole conversation, and that gave her the wherewithal to continue. “You really think something like this would change any of that?”

Those words inspired a new kind of vulnerability in his expression, and Marit realized that once again, she had uncovered a fear he had intended to keep hidden away. She half-wanted to tell him how ridiculous he was being, how he was blind if he thought Haplo would be anything less than absurdly, cloyingly pleased with this turn of events.

But, if pressed, perhaps she could admit that she understood the fear, in a way. She couldn’t say she hadn’t had such thoughts herself, recently, with handsome eyes smiling down at her before he kissed her so gently, or even yesterday, in the Labyrinth, with Alfred watching over them both with unwavering devotion.

She had stumbled into something she didn’t deserve, something that couldn’t possibly last. Something would come along to destroy it, or else she would ruin it of her own accord, because that was how it always had been, before. That knowledge had been built strong from years of experience, and it had guided her decisions for so long that she wasn’t sure she would ever be able to let it go. She didn’t know much about Alfred, but she had seen enough to recognize how that knowledge had shaped Alfred, too, in its own way.

Sympathy was still a strange feeling, turning her response into something softer than she had anticipated. “Give us a little credit, Coren.” The name felt a little strange on her tongue, the first time she had used it for herself, but there was something nice about it, too, in the way Alfred’s eyes lit up a little when he heard it. “We get in a say in this, too. I already said I don’t care. After all,” she added, raising her eyebrow, “don’t you think that if anyone would understand, it would be me?”

Immediately, Alfred flushed again. “I don’t want to talk about this,” he said stubbornly. It seemed that for now, at least, that door was very firmly shut.

Which was what had started this whole mess, Marit thought, rolling her eyes. “Fine,” she said, brisk again. “But come home. You can’t stay here forever.”

“Home. You still…” Alfred hesitated. “You want me around?”

 _What, were you planning on just living here?_ Marit almost snapped, only holding herself back because that actually seemed like a very real possibility at the moment. Instead, she groaned. “You’re my friend, too, Alfred, in case you’ve _already_ forgotten. And he’s worried about you.” She hoped that that, if nothing else, might persuade him.

Alfred paused to consider it, his fingers tapping away at the desk in front of him. Finally, he sighed. “I suppose I can’t stay here indefinitely.”

* * *

Alfred returned home with her, as he’d said he would, ignoring each of Haplo’s questioning looks and excusing himself to bed early. Haplo frowned after him, turning to Marit, who could only shrug. Her own issues with Alfred had been dealt with. The rest of it wasn’t her affair to meddle in.

She heard them talking later that night as she passed the open door to Alfred’s room. When she lingered outside the door, she told herself she was merely waiting for Haplo to join her to bed.

“Just a little out of sorts, today,” Alfred was saying, his voice one of forced calm. “I’m not upset. There’s really nothing you need to worry about, my friend.”

“You’re really going to lie straight to my face?” Haplo’s words were cutting, followed by a long pause. Then, quieter: “You know you can trust me, Coren. Whatever it is.”

“Of course I _trust_ you, I--” Alfred’s voice was strained.

Another pause. “Fine, then. Just… fine.”

Marit could barely hear Alfred’s timid “Goodnight,” and then there was Haplo, who wordlessly followed her into the room that they shared. She studied him from out of the corner of her eye; he looked troubled, but more than that, he looked wounded.

It was easy, sometimes, to forget that this was all new to him, too. As much as she knew he had wanted it, he didn’t know how to navigate this new, strange family of theirs any more than she did. And he was proud, too proud to fail at something he had set his mind to, and that meant that he had tried, unnatural as it still was, only to be brushed off entirely. What could be done, after that?

“I did tell him to talk to you,” she said, knowing it meant little.

Haplo settled onto the futon, creating a space for her to join him. She rested on her side, facing him, waiting for him to speak.

When he did, he sounded unusually exposed. “He’s not in trouble, is he?”

“Nothing like that,” Marit assured him, thinking again how stupid this whole situation was, all this heartache over something so harmless. “He’s just being stubborn.”

She wondered, not for the first time, if she should just tell him. Distasteful as she found the prospect, she might have done it: if she’d thought it would actually help, that is. As it was, she couldn’t let go of the feeling that it would be best to let them sort this out with as little interference from her as possible.

Haplo closed his eyes, and she moved closer, trying to tell him without words that his doubt was unnecessary, that they were all here and would remain so, that there was nothing to worry about. She wasn’t much of a comforter, so she didn’t know if she succeeded, but he wrapped an arm around her, pressed his lips to her forehead, and let silence wash over them, and that would have to be enough.

* * *

They spoke with Vasu the next day, recounting their Run with greater detail. The news that the Labyrinth truly did seem to be weaker than before was heartening, and Vasu considered it carefully.

“It might be feasible to go deeper, then.” It was more of a question than a statement, and Vasu looked between them, waiting for a response.

Haplo didn’t speak right away, and his hesitation surprised Marit. “We can’t just stay where we are and be satisfied with that,” she said, watching him. “We have to go deeper.”

Haplo met her eyes, and she knew they were both thinking of those trapped inside the Labyrinth. Of their daughter, who they had sworn to save. He nodded his agreement.

They turned to Alfred, who had been letting the Patryns do most of the talking all morning. Surprised and a little embarrassed at the attention, he nodded his head, too. “Whatever it takes,” he said simply.

* * *

 The next few days were better, Alfred’s strange behavior and the emotional turmoil from earlier apparently forgotten, just as Alfred had wanted. The three of them spent the time attending to their own tasks around the Nexus, running into each other on occasion for a brief word, reconvening at their home in the evening around a meal that one of them, usually Alfred, had prepared.

The easy dynamic between the three of them had returned, more or less, and Marit was glad for it. There was already plenty of tension to worry about in the Nexus, after all.

So the subject that Alfred was so intent on avoiding wasn’t raised again until a week or two later. Having only stepped out of bed a few minutes ago, Marit was focused on her breakfast, vaguely aware of Alfred’s cheerful voice in the background, chattering on about whatever new vein of study he had found himself in. She and Alfred operated on the unspoken assumption that she would pretend to listen to his lengthy tangents so long as he didn’t expect her to actually retain any of it.

For that reason, she didn’t give any of the conversation a second thought until Alfred ended his speech with his usual, “Sorry, I’m rambling, aren’t I?” He cast her an apologetic smile, a little embarrassed, as if he didn’t do this most mornings, anyway.

“Hm?” Beside her, Haplo’s eyes refocused. “Oh.” Marit hid a smile; apparently Haplo had been paying about as much attention as she had, this morning.

“Drifted off?” Alfred smiled knowingly, sounding not at all offended.

“Guess so.” One of the corners of Haplo’s mouth turned up slightly. “It’s good to see you happy,” he said, standing. “It suits you.”

 _My mistake,_ Marit thought, carefully keeping the amusement out of her expression. _Definitely paying attention, as it turns out._

Alfred blinked several times in quick succession, and Marit was reminded of herself: _I don’t even know how to respond to that._ “Oh. I-- Thank you?” Haplo watched with fascination as Alfred’s face reddened, and then he nodded, wishing them a quick goodbye before heading out.

Out of respect, Marit held back her snickering until the front door shut.

Alfred turned to her, red-faced, his voice nothing more than a squeak as he raised a single finger. “Don’t.”

Alfred’s mortification only made her snort louder. “I didn’t say anything,” she said, dutifully returning to her breakfast.

“I’m sorry--”

“Don’t,” she echoed, raising a stern finger of her own, though she was unable to keep a straight face. Amazingly, though he looked a bit bewildered by the whole thing, Alfred smiled a little bit, too, this time.

She was able to get a few more bites in before he spoke up again. “I don’t understand how you can be so fine with this,” he said, a bit hesitant.

Marit cocked her head. “What does that mean?”

“Marit,” Alfred said, very seriously. “I’ve seen you glare daggers at other people for so much as _looking_ at him.” And, well, there wasn’t much she could say about that, was there?

She shrugged. “That’s different.”

Because it was. Maybe it had been in Abarrach, when it had been the two of them fighting for the smallest chance to save Haplo, or maybe it had even been before then, on the battlements of Abri with their hands entwined, but at some point in the process of sorting out her tangled feelings towards Haplo had been the implicit realization that to choose Haplo was also to accept that Alfred had his own role in all of this.

In the Squatter camps, it hadn’t been uncommon for them to take in a new Patryn, and it had never taken long to adapt to the new presence, fully accepting the new member into the camp. In much the same way, Alfred had already become a part of their family, in Marit’s view of the matter, at least. It made no sense to start getting territorial now.

But that was harder to explain. “After everything that’s already happened with you two, do you really think any of this matters?” she said. “I told you, you’re already a part of this. As much as I am, whether you’ve realized it or not. The rest is just details.”

Alfred looked like he wanted to protest, but Marit decided to take it as a good sign that he refrained, in the end.

* * *

 Going back the Labyrinth for one day with just the three of them was one thing. Preparing to return with a group several times that large, for a much deeper and longer excursion, was another thing entirely. Before Marit knew it, it was the evening before they had planned to depart. It felt like almost no time had passed at all; they had been busy, and Marit had plenty of practice keeping her mind occupied when need be.  
But somehow, that gift failed her that night. Haplo had already drifted off next to her,  but sleeping proved impossible for her, the Labyrinth dancing at the edges of her vision. _Ridiculous,_ she scolded herself, but still her eyes refused to shut, open to the real and imagined shadows cast against the wall.

There was no use in just sitting here. She stood slowly, walked out of the room and shut the door quietly behind her. Almost without knowing where she had been going, she found herself knocking softly at a door that fell open at the slightest touch.

The scent of parchment greeted her, along with the crisp rustle of shifting pages. “Hey,” Marit said, slipping inside, conscious that she’d never entered this room on her own before.

“Good evening,” Alfred said, and if he was surprised to see her he hid it well. “How are you?”

Marit leaned against the doorframe, her eyes fixed on the leg of Alfred’s desk. Her lips pressed together tightly, and her throat suddenly felt constricted.

“You can sit down, if you’d like,” Alfred added, his tone compassionate, gesturing to a large, comfortable-looking armchair situated in the corner of the room. Marit felt her whole body stiffen, a part of her responding with instinctive distaste, refusing to be pitied. Old habits died hard, but in the end, Marit swallowed, taking a few short steps towards the chair.

The cushions pulled Marit in as she sat down. The few dwellings in Patryn tribes had very little in the way of furniture, and rarely was any of it created with anything other than practicality in mind. By contrast, this chair was at least as cushioned as her bed: probably even more so, having been made for sitting and reading for hours on end, if one were so inclined.

She settled into it, her fingertips brushing across the arms with the grain of its fabric. “What are you still doing up, anyway? More research?” Yes, white noise was just what she wanted, now.

But Alfred shook his head. “More of a pet project, really. It’s all these journals.” He placed a hand on top of a stack of notebooks of various sizes and states of disrepair.

“Haplo’s?”

“And a few others’.” Alfred nodded. “I was thinking of compiling them. Get everything together, you know. The whole story.” Marit made a vague noise of interest. If only she could have just fallen asleep; her thoughts were ringing loudly in her head, and yet she couldn’t focus on a single one before it seemed to pull itself just out of her grasp. And then, Alfred’s voice reached her through the static sense of dread, strong and clear.

“Tomorrow will be fine, you know.” She blinked, and the world around her was brought back into focus around a pair bright blue eyes. “We’ll all be there,” he was saying. “We’ll make sure--”  
“I’m not worried,” she said sharply, unwilling to be comforted. Why would she need comfort at all? It wasn’t like it was the first time she had gone back inside. She had been the one to insist on going in deeper. No, she was not worried. She was not worried. “I’m…”

Alfred waited patiently until she closed her mouth with an unhappy twist. “Of course,” he said, his voice low, “you’re one of the bravest people I know. Something like fear could never stop you.”

 _Ridiculous,_ she thought again, but somehow, the seriousness of his tone made her chest ache. She turned her eyes away from him. “It’s not the Labyrinth. Not entirely.”

Alfred paused, and when he spoke, it was without judgement. “No?”

She shook her head, felt the words slip from her lips, almost by accident. “He wants to find her.” Not just Haplo, but it was easier to say it that way, to project it all on him. Her throat was already tight, making her voice into something thick, hoarse.

“And we will,” Alfred said, simply. Confident, as if it weren’t an impossible task, as if Rue was waiting right around the corner for them, as if there weren’t a million things between them to worry over, not the least of which were her own failings. No, Alfred was certain that they would find her, and maybe that was what Marit feared the most.

“It’s not just you, my dear.” His words brought forth memories and feelings not her own; a young girl lying still in her arms, overwhelming grief and a guilt that was even more poignant, and then a different kind of fear, the suspicious eyes of Patryns as they passed. Marit turned her head up, blinked at Alfred’s blurry image before she registered the stinging of her eyes, the wetness that had pooled there. “You’re not alone, this time. Haplo will help. I’ll help.”

She closed her eyes to him. “I know,” she said, and all at once her body seemed to remember its exhaustion. She rubbed at her eyes and forced them back open. Alfred wasn’t watching her anymore, for which she was grateful; he had turned back to his books, though his attention seemed to be elsewhere.

“The whole story,” she said, echoing his earlier words. “I don’t think even I know the whole story.”

Alfred recognized her invitation for what it was. “My turn to be the storyteller?” he asked, and Marit closed her eyes in response, sinking again into the cushions around her, and then there were words all around her, imparting memories of the floating islands of Arianus. The sound was almost melodious, and the still-awake part of Marit’s mind wondered if that was always what Alfred sounded like, or if he was putting extra effort into making his voice sound so soothing. The rest of her mind, though, seemed to fade into silence at last, and she felt herself leaning onto her side, drifting off into a dreamless sleep.

* * *

When she awoke, the room was dark, and she could tell by the sound of his breathing that Alfred had fallen asleep, himself, in the bed that he’d shoved into the corner of his room like an afterthought. Stretching a little, she moved silently out of the room, closing the door behind her.

From the main room, she could see that it was still dark out; probably an hour or so til dawn. She had managed to rest a few hours, then. Haplo was already awake, sitting and staring out blankly. When he saw her, he nodded in greeting.

“Sleep well?”

It wasn’t a question he would usually have asked her, and Marit knew immediately why. “Well enough. I went in to talk for a minute, and the next thing I knew I was waking up.”

Haplo grinned wryly, catching her meaning. “Say no more.”

“Did I worry you?” she asked, a shade more serious than teasing. She knew for herself the split-second panic of waking up to something different than what one had fallen asleep to, after all.

“No,” Haplo said after only a brief hesitation, which Marit took to mean “just a little.”

* * *

Marit, as it turned out, was not the only person set on edge at the prospect of a deeper excursion into the Labyrinth. Though only a handful of Patryns were joining them, there was an undercurrent of anxiety among everyone in New Abri that morning as final preparations were made. Balthazar had arrived, too, speaking with Vasu as he oversaw things and stepping in to help where he was able, though unlike Vasu he would not be joining them this time.

Haplo, surprisingly, was the worst influence on Marit’s nerves. Though he showed no outward signs of apprehension, the way he restlessly double- and triple- checked every little detail, impatient and irritable, was almost more grating. She understood the anxiety, of course she did, but after one snapped remark too many, Marit stepped aside, finding Alfred on the outskirts of the chaos, watching the scene quietly.

“He’s _unbearable,_ ” she complained, fingers tapping against her crossed arms.

Alfred laced his fingers together. “We’re all nervous,” he offered, with a somewhat forced smile. “He just has a different way of expressing it.”

Marit snorted. “Yes, and it’s unbearable.”

Alfred seemed to struggle with some internal battle for a moment before he sighed. “Yes, it is,” he admitted.

“Can’t you just put him to sleep again?”

The question, flippant as it was, earned Marit a stern look from Alfred. “I don’t actually approve of casting spells on my friends without their consent.”

Marit sighed.

From his position next to Vasu, Balthazar made eye contact with her, glancing back at the group of busy Patryns momentarily before looking back at her, raising his eyebrows, his face carved into a disapproving frown.

The Sartan wasn’t even coming with them, who was he to act all high and mighty? The thought made Marit’s nerves flare into an anger that she quickly suppressed, though she was sure to aim a nasty glare in his direction, which he ignored. “What about _him?_ ” she muttered, crossing her arms and leaning against the wall behind her.

Alfred let out an exhale that might have been a stifled laugh, and some small part of Marit’s frustration lessened along with it.

* * *

Marit clutched her shoulder with a grimace while Haplo and a few of the others spoke with the Runners. There were four of them, unusual for Runners, who were largely solitary by nature, but it was their strength in numbers that had allowed them to come as close as they had to the Final Gate; it had only taken two days of travel to reach them, though it had been quiet, and they had been able to move quickly.

Marit knew better than to be reassured by that fact, however. The deeper they went in, the more opportunity the Labyrinth had to keep them from coming back out. They had discovered these Runners fighting off a group of snogs, holding their own against a half-dozen of the beasts even before they had arrived.

Outnumbered, the snogs had turned tail, striking wild blows as they made their escape, but the Patryns had no time even to breathe before they were distracted by another roar. The monsters had returned, charging out from the trees, but this time there were five times as many, far more than any ordinary pack. Enough to outnumber them, but not enough to defeat them, Marit thought, raising her weapon as her mouth opened on instinct, but before she could mutter even the beginnings of a spell, an ear-piercing screech from above distracted her. The sound was followed by a sickening slice and a stab of pain in her left shoulder, and she’d heard herself cry out along with the other Patryns as a swarm of large birdlike creatures swooped down from above them, the sky turning into a metallic silver haze.

“Marit!” called a familiar voice, in the present, this time.

Of course she couldn’t have hidden her injury from Alfred for long. It was those damn birds that had done it, with feathers as sharp as knives and beaks just as unforgiving, dividing their focus away from the snogs as they attacked from above, fleeing into the air whenever they were attacked directly. More than one of them had managed a deep cut in just the right spot to get past her defenses, but the initial strike at her shoulder had been the worst of it; she could hardly move her left arm at all.

She dropped her hand to her side, adopting a more casual stance. “A decent hit,” she said briskly. “Maybe if you held off on your dragon trick, these skirmishes would be a bit more interesting,” she said wryly.

Alfred had been able to take on the birds from above, chasing them back into the sky where he picked them off one by one, emerald scales stronger than the feathers that tried to cut into them. Alfred merely looked at her, clearly confused. “Of course I couldn’t-- oh, I see,” he said, voice now tinged with disapproval. “You were joking.”

“Well,” Marit said, rolling her injured shoulder experimentally. “It _was_ a decent hit, and it _could_ have been more of a challenge.” A sharp jolt of pain shot through her arm as she moved it, and she couldn’t keep herself from cringing.

“Here, let me…” Alfred stepped forward with arms outstretched, but Marit stepped back, shaking her head.

“There are worse injuries than this to take care of right now,” she said, gesturing back to the Patryns behind them. “I can wait for a while.”

“Are you certain?” Alfred pressed. “If we get into another fight and you’re not in your best condition, you’ll be at a disadvantage.”

She shrugged, noticing Haplo approaching them and making her way towards him. “Better me than anyone else.” She might have once found his concern patronizing, but now Marit found herself oddly touched. “Go dote on someone who needs it, Coren,” she said over her shoulder, feeling the corners of her lips twitch upward. Alfred smiled back, nodding his assent as he followed her.

When she turned back to Haplo, his expression had changed; his eyes narrowed, his mouth set in a firm line. Their eyes met for a moment, but he looked away quickly, and Marit knew him well enough to know that he was perturbed. It occurred to Marit that he might not have known that she knew Alfred’s name.

Whatever the reason, Haplo recollected himself quickly, told them what had been learned from the Runners. There was a small camp of Squatters a little farther in, where they had stayed the previous night. Two of the Runners had agreed to lead them back there, and then they would make a break for the Nexus together. The others had refused to turn back.

“We should be able to get there before night falls,” he finished.

Marit nodded. “Then let’s get going.”

* * *

As before, moving deeper into the Labyrinth wasn’t difficult, but that didn’t mean the Labyrinth was ignoring them. Marit knew she was not alone in sensing spying eyes from all directions, creatures slowly encircling them, cutting off their escape, guided by an all-seeing presence.

They made it in the end, though; the Runners had led them to the camp where they now rested, if it could be called rest at all.

Marit sat at the very edges of the camp, eyes sweeping back and forth, watching carefully for any sign of movement. Tomorrow they would be headed back towards the Final Gate as fast as they could, because while the Labyrinth had been content to watch them dig themselves deeper, once they turned to try to escape again, it would be another story entirely.

It would not be an easy few days, but they would make it.

She heard footsteps behind her, and a second later two figures appeared at the corner of her vision. They sat on either side of her, and Marit felt a hand reach out to touch her shoulder, making her flinch.

Haplo moved his hand away like he had been burned, realizing a second later what Alfred understood immediately. “Your injury from earlier, isn’t it?” His voice was tinged with disapproval. “You’ve strained it.”

She could almost hear the _I told you so._ She said nothing, did not even look his direction, only remained focused on their surroundings. Haplo watched her, concerned, but when he opened his mouth, it was Alfred that spoke.

“You should sleep.”

Marit shook her head. He meant a healing sleep, she knew, but no matter how her shoulder ached, Marit was not going to let herself go that deep. She was more than prepared to deal with the pain. “It will be fine until we get back.”

“Marit,” Alfred said, exasperated.

She took a moment away from her vigil to shoot a sharp look his way. “You think it’s just going to wait for us to get a good night’s sleep?” she asked harshly.

Haplo reached out again, this time to touch her forearm, and his voice was gentle. “It certainly won’t once we start moving again.”

Marit shook her head, unwilling to allow herself to be comforted. “The second we let our guard down, it’s over. Why do you think it’s been so quiet?” She knew she was not alone in sensing watchful eyes on them, the Labyrinth keeping watch over them as it amassed what forces it could muster, just waiting for the right moment to strike.

Alfred, though, shook his head at her words. “If it thought it could beat us that easily, it would have done so by now.” He said it so confidently, she almost believed it.

Instead, she scoffed. “What, you think it’s hesitating?”

She expected Alfred to draw back, but he only shrugged. “It wasn’t so long ago that it threw everything it had at us, and we still escaped,” he said. “I doubt it’s eager to repeat the experience.”

After a moment’s consideration, Marit shook her head. “What do you know about it?” she asked, but the harshness in her tone had vanished, and she let herself turn towards him fully. Their eyes met, and she felt Haplo’s warmth behind her, and she took a breath, feeling her resistance crumbling away. It was not an unpleasant feeling; she felt more centered, somehow, without ever having noticed herself becoming imbalanced in the first place.

“If you really don’t want to sleep,” Alfred was saying with a wry smile, “I’m sure we can reach a compromise.”

Marit huffed out a sigh, making her annoyance evident. “If it’ll shut you up,” she said, but she must not have said it with enough irritation, because Alfred’s smile grew wider as he caught her outstretched hands in his.

It didn’t take long for her shoulder to feel the effects of Alfred’s healing. Energy flowed into her body through her arm, knitting together muscles carefully, guiding everything back into its proper place. There were his feelings, too; weary muscles unused to their rough pace of travel, and more than that, there was the care and concern the Sartan’s words always seemed to be overflowing with, now transmitted directly through to her.

Some of herself was passed back through to him, the thought of it no longer as frightening or distasteful as it might once have been.

Alfred blinked, backing away. “Did you--?”

Marit felt her face grow hot. She had done it without thinking: offered a portion of her own stamina to ease the aches, as easily and instinctively as she would have if it had been Haplo healing her, or another Patryn. “ _Someone_ had to,” she said brusquely, pulling her hands back towards herself. _You’re the one who’s so intent on wasting your energy on everyone besides yourself,_ she didn’t say.

“Thank you,” he said after a moment. Marit said nothing, pretending to go back to her watch. Her shoulder was better, now. Not completely healed, yet, but better. She felt Haplo’s eyes on her. He had been quiet, letting Alfred and Marit steer the conversation, and in the end, they had worked it out on their own.

 _He should be glad for that,_ Marit thought, setting aside the sense that he was not.

They passed a few hours quietly, with little activity besides the shuffling of Patryns preparing to leave behind them while the rest of the village slept. A few times, fatigue got the better of her, and she leaned her body against Haplo’s shoulder, but every time she would wake herself up, go back to her watch.

They were not attacked until a few hours before dawn. It was sudden, with no warning whatsoever before the hoard struck, matched only by the speed with which Alfred shifted into his dragon shape and knocked them away, alerting them all to the danger. Awake and prepared, now, the Patryns fought off the pack, only to be joined by a second pack, and then a third.

No more playing around, then. Marit and the other Patryns fought in front, forming a line that they refused to allow the monsters to breach, for behind them were the children of the camp, armed only with short knives and the most rudimentary of magic.

It was Alfred who ended the battle just as he’d started it, plucking the last creature from right in front of Haplo and Marit with wicked claws that pierced its flesh, killing it instantly.

“Nice job, Serpent Mage,” she said through heavy breaths. Glittering emerald, Alfred’s large, draconian head swung around towards her. Even as a dragon his expression managed to expel fondness.

A screech from deeper in the forest, then a flash at Marit’s side. _Wait!_ She heard Alfred’s voice in her mind, but Haplo did not wait, charging straight into the brush, straight into the next wave, a pack of wolfen that quickly began to surround him. Marit rushed forward alongside a flash of gold and green, managing to parry a claw away from Haplo’s back inches before it hit.

“What are you _doing?”_ she growled between chants, but there was no time for him to answer. A black mass would pounce, snarling viciously, and when they managed to throw it off, another one rushed forward to take its place, fangs snapping closer each time as their strength began to fail them.

And then the whole pack of them was swept aside in an instant, knocked away with a heavy thud by the armored tail of the dragon. Marit spun quickly, running her spear through the last of them with a sickening squelch before it could realize what had happened.

Haplo had hardly moved before Marit turned on him with the same ferocity as she had the wolfen. “What the hell were you thinking, running into them like that?” Her blood was boiling as she pinned him with a glare, ignoring the flash of light and a short humming sound that told her that Alfred had returned to his normal shape.

Haplo said nothing, his face hard as stone, and somehow that only enraged Marit further. Cautiously, Alfred stepped between the pair of them.

“Are you okay?” he asked, diplomatic, turning anxiously towards Haplo. “It isn’t like you to be so careless.”

“It turned out fine, didn’t it?” Haplo shot back, his fingers wrapped tightly around his weapon. “More are coming. Let’s go.”

Marit felt her eyebrows raise, and Alfred turned towards her, exuding concern. Their eyes met knowingly, and she heard Haplo growl beside her.

“ _Stop it,_ already,” he muttered with a petulence that made Alfred jump and Marit see red, because suddenly she understood what this was all about, and this was _not_ happening; she absolutely didn’t have the patience for this. Not in the Labyrinth, with danger all around and her shoulder throbbing painfully again.

Alfred shook his head slightly, genuinely bewildered. “Stop what?”

Haplo ignored Alfred, but when he turned to Marit, he was caught in her glower, instead. She narrowed her eyes, forcing her next words to come out evenly, though somehow they were all the more cutting for it: “You’re being ridiculous.”

It was the understatement of the century, and she could have said more, but it wasn’t the time or place for a true argument. Still, for a split second, as Haplo glared right back at her, his frustration was tempered with shame. He knew full well that he was being an idiot, then, and it should have been a consolation but Marit didn’t care because Marit was still furious.

“Let’s keep going,” was all he said, and he stalked off, rejoining the larger group that had prepared to move out.

Alfred watched him as he left them, blue eyes wide with alarm. “What on earth.”

“He needs to pull himself together,” she spat, not caring if Haplo could still hear her. “I’ll drag him back to the Nexus myself before I let him get himself killed over his stupid jealousy.” She cursed, aware that Alfred was looking more confused than ever.

“Jealousy?” Alfred sounded disbelieving, and she cast him an impatient look. He blinked, then shook his head slowly. “That… makes no sense,” he protested weakly, and really, what other response was there to the sheer absurdity that was Haplo managing to make himself jealous over the two people who were in love with him?

Marit felt a bark of unamused laughter escape from her throat. “You’re telling me.” And she was certain that Alfred still had completely the wrong idea of what Haplo was so worked up over, and honestly, between the three of them, how the hell had she ever become the one who was actually somewhat emotionally aware?

They continued onwards for a while, Haplo in the lead near Vasu while she and Alfred trailed behind the rest of the group. Marit tried to ignore her anger, doing her best to focus on the task at hand. She let herself slide back into instinct, watching their backs as they moved forward.

The first wave of monsters had subsided, leaving them to walk, giving them time to tire before the next strike, probably. The terrain certainly seemed more treacherous than it had been going in, and then there was the way Alfred, hardly graceful at the best of times, seemed to become more clumsy the more preoccupied he became, and since Haplo was still sulking, it was left to her to keep him upright and moving forward, too.

While she was used to tense travel, the fact that the discomfort was now coming from inside their little group was maddening. After she had caught him by the arm for the umpteenth time, Alfred shook his head. Marit couldn’t quite tell what he was feeling, but she thought it might be resolve, and hours later, when they finally paused for a much-needed break, Alfred marched ahead of her, only stumbling a little.

“Haplo?” Though they were out of earshot of the rest of the group, she could still hear his voice from where she was, and while she wouldn’t call it confident, exactly, his characteristic timidity certainly had an edge to it.

“What is it.” It was hardly a question, the way Haplo said it so abruptly.

To his credit, Alfred wasn’t deterred by Haplo’s impatience. “Are you okay? We’re both worried about you.” Marit, who was herself feeling much more irritation than worry, felt another jab of annoyance at that, but she supposed the Sartan wasn’t entirely wrong.

“You _are,_ are you?” Haplo muttered, predictably bitter as he glared at the ground in front of him.

“Yes, we _are_ ,” Alfred snapped, concern swiftly falling away into impatience, and suddenly he was standing at his full height, towering over both of them, demanding their attention. These were rare moments, when his entire countenance seemed to change to reveal his true power of character, his usual meekness slipping away. “Because we _both_ care about you more than anything, and if you got hurt because you were distracted over something as foolish as this-- we would be lost without you, Haplo. You _know_ that.”

His eyes, always the most expressive aspect of him, burned with powerful disapproval that would have made her shudder had his words not been coated with fierce protectiveness and love, a concern that dared either of them to question its existence. She found herself immensely relieved that he was on their side.

Haplo swallowed, and Marit knew he had felt all of it. His voice was much fainter when it reached her, tinged with the same guilt she had seen in his expression, earlier. “I know.” He rubbed at his temple, and Marit almost didn’t hear his next words, low as they were. “I’m… sorry.”

Alfred, however, hardly seemed to hear him. The fire in his eyes had been extinguished as he’d finished speaking, and he’d clamped his lips together unhappily.

Haplo could hardly fail to notice the shift, even if he didn’t seem to quite understand the cause of it. Marit recognized the expression Haplo wore when he was analyzing a problem, putting together the pieces quickly. “Alfred--”

Alfred seemed to realize it too, for he cut him off with a sharp turn of the head. “Let’s just… do what we came to do.”

For a moment, she thought Haplo would force the issue, but he only nodded slowly, still with that thoughtful look on his face. Instead, he approached Marit and offered his hands to her without another word. She looked at them for a moment, then exhaled deeply, taking them in her own. She felt the pain in her shoulder drift away, along with the fear and fury she was holding on to. There followed a lurch of uncertainty and shame that Marit knew belonged to Haplo, and she felt her temper flare again at the unwelcome sensation. Haplo accepted it all willingly, unquestioningly, taking all of her anger born of love and letting vitality gently take its place. She got the sense that he was trying to heal something greater, less physical, in the process, and she accepted it, at least for the moment. When it was done, she pulled away, stretching her newly-mended shoulder.

At least this would be the end of it. It would have to be, because if it wasn’t then Marit would take matters into her own hands, because while she was all for staying out of their business, she did have a line and that line, as it turned out, was nearly dying due to a refusal to talk about their damn feelings.

They had fallen to the back of the group, though, and her runes began to glow red as another wave of enemies approached, and so once again, the topic was set aside.

* * *

Marit wondered if there would ever come a time when stepping out of the Labyrinth would no longer leave her with a lump in her throat and an overwhelming sense of relief.

They had traveled for almost two days without rest to get back to the Final Gate, the journey back just as difficult as they had predicted. As they moved, they watched for signs of the Runners that had chosen to go ahead on their own. They found what appeared to be a trail, but they had only followed it for a short time before it ended abruptly, leaving little uncertainty as to what had happened. Alfred had paled, Haplo had frowned, clear guilt weighing him down, and Marit had pushed them forward, feeling the atmosphere among all of those traveling with them grew heavier as Vasu urged them onward, too.

The hoards of creatures had grown thicker and faster the closer they came, until the exit was in sight, along with one last group of enemies waiting for them.

The larger part of their group, including she, Haplo, and Alfred, worked to drive the creatures away from the few Patryns who had ushered the children through the gate first. Each step was its own uphill battle, but finally, the last of them had stepped into the Nexus.

Some Patryns had gathered to watch them-- mostly those who stepped out of New Abri, coming forward to heal the wounded, though Marit recognized some as members of the group that had once served Xar. Balthazar had arrived, too, and she thought she might have caught sight of a few other Sartan, white-robed figures in the distance, but they had left by the time she thought to get a closer look.

And then, finally...

“Home.”

The three of them stood in the entryway. At first, each seemed lost in their respective thoughts, though it didn’t take long awareness of each other to return, seeping between them along with a tension, slowly tipping them into the inevitable.  
Far be it from Marit to slow it down. “Well?”

Alfred cast Marit a look of disapproval. “I’m going to bed,” he said pointedly. “You both should, too. I’ll see you in the morning.”

 _Of course._ Marit rolled her eyes, hoping she looked sufficiently unimpressed. “Sure you aren’t going to barricade yourself in the library again?” she scoffed.

Alfred crossed his arms, almost defiant. “I haven’t decided yet,” he declared, and maybe Marit was tired, but that nearly got a laugh out of her, even through her exasperation.

Alfred made his way past them, towards his study, and Haplo blinked, raising a hand in protest. “But--”

“Goodnight!” Alfred called over his shoulder, and Marit heard his door shut firmly a few seconds later.

Marit shook her head, watching Haplo’s dumbfounded expression with reluctant amusement. “That man could teach us a thing or two about repression.”

Haplo was still standing dumbstruck, staring at the door Alfred had just closed. He threaded his fingers through his hair, bewildered and agitated in equal measure. “How long has _that_ been going on?”

“Long enough.” Marit watched Haplo closely, trying to trace his thoughts; his emotions seemed to be rapidly flickering between confusion, concern, and fondness. The result was a sort of perplexed half-smile, which Marit confronted with a glare. “No need to look so pleased with yourself.” She inclined her head toward the door to Alfred’s study.

Haplo paused, putting the pieces together. Perhaps he could even feel the thick waves of Alfred’s anxiety; Marit almost believed she could, after all, even through the walls.  “He’s terrified,” he said, and it was such an obvious statement that Marit refused to deign it with a response. “Why?” he asked, finally.

It was a strange question for him to be asking Marit, but maybe it was a testament to how wrong-footed Haplo had evidently been left by this whole fiasco. “You and I are the last people who should be asking that question,” she replied honestly, remembering the mistakes she had made out of a similar fear.

Haplo pursed his lips. Perhaps he was thinking of his own regrets: the animal he’d created to distance himself from the bitterness of them. To love was a frightening endeavor, and it seemed that not even Alfred was exempt from that.

“You’re both idiots,” Marit added after a moment’s contemplation.

She felt his eyes on her, appraising. “You might have told me,” he said mildly.

“You practically live in each others’ heads,” she retorted. “Somehow, I didn’t think I would need to.” Maybe she should have, given everything that had happened later, but how was she supposed to know how far they would force it? “It’s not my problem, anyway,” she continued. “What’s _your_ excuse?”

Haplo crossed his arms. “There’s been a lot going on,” he started, and Marit felt her eyebrow creep higher. “It’s not like there’s a rush,” he continued, defensive. “We have more important things to be thinking about right now.”

Marit scoffed. “I can agree with that, at least.”

It was rare that Haplo struggled for words, but he actually looked flustered beneath her judgement. He shifted his weight uncomfortably, and then he sighed, moving to take a seat. “It’s the three of us,” he said simply, his eyebrows furrowing. “I want it to be that way for a long time. I thought…” He trailed off. “I thought you both knew that.” It was almost a question, the way he said it, and he looked up at her from his seated position as though she had all the answers.

"Well, one of us did, anyway." She put something together then, shaking her head. “You were waiting for everything to just settle into place on its own, weren’t you? Easy as that.”

He visibly tensed, then relaxed with a resigned sigh. “Maybe I was,” he admitted. “I’ve never been as content as I am with the two of you,” he said with that honesty that still took Marit by surprise, sometimes. “I just… didn’t want to push it.”

She shut her eyes, sitting next to him. “He said almost exactly the same thing, you know.”

Haplo shook his head slowly. “That sounds like him,” he admitted, more to himself than to her. He paused, then, thoughtful. “I really am glad, you know,” he said, facing her. “I hoped the two of you would get along.”

“I know,” she said, because that had been obvious from the start.

He paused, and his eyebrows narrowed in concentration as he tried to find the words he wanted. "I just… don't think I realized what that meant.”

“That there would be things we share with each other that aren’t yours.” Marit’s voice had a cold edge to it.

Haplo didn’t deny it, his eyes downcast as he shrugged a shoulder. “I wasn’t prepared for it.”

 _I don’t think any of us were,_ Marit thought. “It’s only fair,” she said, still with that same edge, because even if it wasn’t Haplo’s fault, they both knew that there was already so much that Haplo and Alfred shared that Marit simply never would, and the other way around.

“I know,” Haplo said, making no excuse for himself. “I was being an idiot. I’m sorry.”

The spoken apology was almost unnecessary; Marit considered him and found that her irritation had already drained away, leaving only her exhaustion in its place. She exhaled deeply. “Well, then there’s only one thing left to worry about, isn’t there?”

Haplo’s lips pressed together into a grimace. “Guess so.”

“And try not to muck it up,” she added dryly. “I really don’t want to deal with any more pouting from either of you.”

Haplo opened his eyes, casting her an unamused glare. "Thanks." She smiled wryly and kissed his cheek, noting how his expression softened slightly before she stood to take her leave.

"Marit?" he called after her, and she paused. A beat, then: "Thanks." More sincere.

For a moment, she stood still, saying nothing. Then she shook her head. "You two really are exactly as bad as the other," she said, hearing a short huff of laughter behind her as she made her way out of the room.

* * *

The next morning, Marit wasn’t sure exactly what had happened. Alfred didn’t look particularly happy, but nor was he as skittish as he’d been the night before, which Marit supposed counted as a victory in some sense. He was quiet, lost in thought, and when she asked him point blank, he only said he was going to have to rethink some things-- whatever the hell that meant-- his pensive expression unchanging.

Haplo was more forthcoming, if vague about it. “We talked,” he told her when the two of them left to meet with Vasu. “I had to spell it out for him, but we got there, in the end.”  
When she asked if that meant things were settled, then, he was slower to answer. “You know him,” he said at last. “He refuses to want anything for himself. And he can be incredibly stubborn about things when he puts his mind to it.”

 _That’s for damn sure_ , Marit thought, scowling. “So nothing’s changed.”

But Haplo shook his head. “I wouldn’t say that.”

Marit made a skeptical noise, but she decided to leave it at that. Her part in this was over, and for that she was glad.

When Marit entered his room at the end of the day, Alfred greeted her, looking up from his notes.

“The new Patryns are settling with Vasu and the others,” she told him without preamble.

He nodded. “That’s good.” He hesitated, then, fiddling with the pen in his hands. “I’m sorry we didn’t find her.”

“Don’t apologize,” Marit snapped reflexively, making Alfred cringe. She took a calming breath, then shook her head decisively. “It was never going to be that easy. We’re not going to give up.”

“No, we won’t,” Alfred agreed, meeting her eyes, and mutual understanding passed between them, explanations and apologies unnecessary. She was glad, having had more than her fill of that in the last few days. He nodded, and then some flicker of discomfort passed over his features, and he turned back to notes Marit was certain he wasn’t reading.

“Hey,” she interrupted, and Alfred’s eyes glanced back up at the uncharacteristic gentleness of her tone. “You still with us?”

Alfred’s response was almost a laugh, if a resigned one. “Aren’t I, always?”

“You’d better be,” Marit replied, not thinking much about it, but then Alfred blinked, and she had the sudden fear that he might start crying on her, so pronounced was the emotion on his face.

He didn’t, in the end, so Marit just nodded uncomfortably and, when Alfred said nothing else, she awkwardly escorted herself out.

Aside from a few initial awkward moments like that one, Haplo proved himself right over the course of the next few days. It didn’t take long for things to return to normal, or at least the way it had been before doubt had created a sensation like everything was balancing on the edge of a precipice. They’d eat together, often a meal that Alfred had prepared. Alfred would laugh at their teasing comments, or else blabber on about his projects while Marit and Haplo listened, or pretended to.

And with every day, Marit saw Alfred get a little more used to it, a little more assured that nothing had been lost or ruined, after all. She was a little surprised by Haplo’s patience, but maybe she shouldn’t have been; after all, he’d had that same patience with her, when she’d needed it.

In the meantime, there was plenty of real work to be done. They helped the new Patryns settle in their new home and began planning the next excursion into the Labyrinth.

Though the village looked much the same to Marit’s eyes, she couldn’t deny the atmosphere of New Abri was subtly changed. Doubt and fear had, for the moment, been replaced with a sense of victory over an enemy that had for so long been insurmountable.

Following their usual meeting with Vasu, the headman had informed them that there would be a celebration that night, a sort of welcome for the Patryns newly rescued from the Labyrinth.

Dusk faded to black, and then they were sitting near one of the bonfires, where once again the topic of conversation had shifted to storytelling-- spoken, this time, the way Marit had always remembered it.

Last time they’d stopped to listen, she’d felt so uneasy with New Abri in all its peculiarity. It occurred to her, suddenly, how that feeling had begun to vanish, as this, too, became familiar.

The Patryn doing the telling described two Runners, each a powerful warrior in his own right. Finding each other in the Labyrinth, they forged an alliance of such strength that the Labyrinth carved a deep canyon just to keep the two men apart.

The rest followed a familiar path: the Runners evading obstacle after obstacle, conquering each challenge the Labyrinth placed in their path, eventually finding each other, embracing and vowing never to allow the Labyrinth to part them again.

“Alright?” she heard Haplo ask when the story had finished, and she opened her eyes, wondering just when she had closed them.

Alfred, in his place between them, did look a little preoccupied, his eyes glazed over. Sensing their attention on him, he blinked. “I was just thinking… Nevermind,” he said with a shrug of his shoulders and a reluctant smile. “It was nice.”

The Sartan was as strange as ever, though just as Marit thought it she recalled her own strangeness the last time they’d told stories together. “It’s just a story,” she said, not harshly.

Alfred’s strange smile remained, his eyes lowered so he was apparently looking at his knees. “I know,” he said simply. “Sartan stories are different, that’s all.” The last was hesitant, almost a confession, though Marit couldn’t see why that would be.

Haplo seemed thoughtful, too, and Marit watched as some kind of realization seemed to strike him. He placed a hand over Alfred’s. Marit couldn’t say for sure what had passed between them, but Alfred smiled at both of them, then, however tentatively, and she decided maybe it didn’t matter.

* * *

“You’re _quite_ certain about this?” Alfred asked, deadly serious.

Marit’s patience, already worn thin, had just about reached its breaking point. “Do I seem _uncertain?_ ” Off to her side, she noticed with mild irritation how Haplo, watching the exchange, was suppressing an amused smile.

Of course Alfred wasn’t satisfied with that. “I want to make sure-- I know it’s a lot to ask--”

She cut him off with a firm hand on his shoulder. “It’s fine, Alfred. You can stop asking.”

* * *

When she walked into the main room of their home a few mornings later, Marit was greeted with an unusual sound. Music played softly, the sound of plucked strings creating a simple melody. She frowned, searching for the source of it, but she could see nothing out of the ordinary: only Alfred, standing in the middle of the room, his eyes shut and looking so peaceful that he might have been asleep on his feet.

“That’s new,” Marit commented, and Alfred’s eyes opened.

“Oh, hello there.” He smiled at her, and Marit noticed his hands making movements, almost slight enough to be unconscious, in time with the music. He shut his eyes again. “It’s been awhile since I’ve done this spell.” He paused, and his smile turned into something more melancholic. “Centuries, I suppose.”

 _Home_ , Marit thought, watching and listening quietly. _It’s been a while for both of us._

The melody was nothing familiar to Marit, and it wasn’t at all like the songs they’d heard in the village the last time, and yet the longer she listened to it, the more she remembered that night. Sitting together in this room, telling stories, particularly the story of a Patryn and his animal companion. She could picture it clearly in her mind’s eye, felt warm fur beneath her as if she were the child waking up, and she realized that this, too, was part of the magic.

She was familiar enough with some of the peculiarities of Sartan magic, by now. Certainly she was no stranger to Alfred’s singing voice or the way his clunky movements would suddenly, inexplicably turn graceful as he began to cast some spell. She was used to the melodic lilt when the Sartan spoke and familiar with the way it painted pictures in her mind, just like her own language did. But the melody currently playing had no words; it was only a series of pitches that made these images play in her mind, like a language all its own.

The same story could feel so different depending on who told it. It was something she had always noticed and appreciated, though she wasn’t sure she had ever articulated it to herself like that. Things had been so different then, after all.

So she listened to this new version of the story tell itself through Alfred.

“I don’t have the same knack for it as I used to,” he said at one point. Not apologetic, for once, but sounding far away. “I’m out of practice.”

A few more tinkling notes rang out. “I wouldn’t know much about that,” Marit said.

Alfred opened his eyes, his smile wistful. “I suppose not.”

They were quiet as the music finished through. A happy ending.

“Still,” Marit found herself saying, “it sounds nice enough.” She turned her gaze away, her face suddenly hot; somehow, those words had said something more than she had intended, and she felt Alfred’s eyes on her. She kept her expression carefully blank, but Alfred said nothing. With a wave of a hand that she only saw out of the corner of her eye, the music started up again.

A new song.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Me: *goes from 30k fic in 34 chapters to self-indulgent 15k oneshot*  
> Sometimes that’s just how the cookie crumbles.  
> I still don't understand why it was THIS dumb, dumb idea of all things that wouldn't leave me alone. Sometimes that's how the cookie crumbles, too.


End file.
